


Both of Him

by emjam



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Compulsion, Dermatillomania, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Like maybe a dusting, Post-Episode: s06e19 I Am My Monster, Pre-Episode: s06e20 The Future, Skin-picking, Steven pulls out his Gem, The Gems learn about what happened in White's head, Therapy, This is a weird premise pls bear with me, Unintentional Self Harm, background connverse - Freeform, fidget toys, kind of, steven is a fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emjam/pseuds/emjam
Summary: With the onset of puberty and anxiety, Steven develops a skin-picking habit. Somehow that leads to introducing his Gem half to his family.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Crystal Gems & Pink Steven Universe, Crystal Gems & Steven Universe, Pink Steven Universe & Steven Universe
Comments: 25
Kudos: 190





	Both of Him

**Author's Note:**

> this seems weird but I just want to preface with this: as someone who struggles with compulsive skin-picking, if I had a Gem inside of me and knew it could be removed, you BET I would mess with it despite fully knowing that it should not leave my body
> 
> I have been to therapy in the past but not for PTSD (which is the topic of the worksheet that I got steven's worksheet questions from) so please lmk if anything about therapy in here looks weird!
> 
> this is rated Teen almost exclusively because there are three (3) swears
> 
> enjoy!

It's hard to pinpoint when the habit had first started.

Maybe it came with the territory of a delayed puberty - pimples are finally cropping up on Steven's chin and cheeks, and for some reason he can't help but pick at every little imperfection. It's usually an idle thing, something he does when he's planning his schedule or making notes, one hand holding a pen and the other passively scraping at his skin. Sometimes it's frustrating to mindlessly pick off a scab - barely registering the pain - and realize that now there's blood imprinted on his fingers and undoubtedly smeared on his face. The habit, to a lesser extent, also migrates to his stomach and arms, where he picks at a benign texture or bump and suddenly amasses a collection of tiny scabs.

It's in the same realm as the cheek-biting and hair-tugging that he's been doing for years, so even though it must be a relatively new development, it feels extremely familiar. To be honest, he's not even fully aware of it until he has lunch with Connie one day.

"I'm really glad they care so much, but it's like, guys, I can go outside without a chaperone." They're sitting together outside Spacetries, their own pastries plated in front of them. Connie's is a prim, neat matcha cake, while Steven's is a small strawberry roll.

He stops talking with a blush when Connie reaches across the table and grabs his hand with her own thin fingers. When had he started touching his face? He watches in silence as Connie inquisitively turns his hand palm-side up.

Oh. Blood is caked into the pads of his fingers.

"Uh. Connie?"

"Oh, sorry!" Connie reddens, pulling her own hands back with a nervous laugh. "I just wanted to get you to stop messing with your face. It looked… painful. Sorry! I should've asked before I just grabbed you like that."

"No, it's okay! I honestly didn't even realize I was doing it. So, thanks, I guess." He winces when he takes another look at his bloody hand. "Aw man, I gotta wash this off. I'll be right back."

He goes back into Spacetries to use their bathroom, Connie gives him some bandaids from her bag when he returns, and they finish their desserts like normal.

One would think that it'd be easy to stop fidgeting with your own skin. After all, it can get painful and even messy if he gets carried away. However, stopping the habit is easier said than done. He slaps some bandaids on trouble spots and cleans his face even more thoroughly than before to quell some of the inviting acne, but it doesn't stop him from finding new blemishes to rip at.

Therapy homework is difficult. Steven's never had therapy _or_ homework before, though he's done a lot of paperwork in his time as a universal space diplomat. This worksheet is a bit rough, like the rest that his therapist gives him.

_What's the worst-case scenario, if you are exposed to your triggers?_

He scowls at the question, readjusting his grip on his pencil. He kind of feels like he _lived_ that scenario, if literally becoming a giant pink monster counts, but maybe he shouldn't write that? He continues to gnaw on the worksheet questions. His free hand seemingly discovers on its own that his shirt is riding up a bit, exposing a mostly-healed scab on his stomach. Absentmindedly, he scrapes it with a nail as he scribbles down an answer that seems the most honest.

_Is there a specific emotion that acts as a trigger for you?_

Okay, Steven can more readily come up with an answer for this one. That doesn't make it easier to write out, though, nor more comfortable to put to paper unwieldy thoughts and feelings. He needs to put them straight in his head first, and face the task of tackling potentially useless worries - am I remembering things correctly? Am I in the right to feel this way? Am I filling in this worksheet properly?

The hand that isn't holding his pencil creeps over to his Gem, scanning the perfectly-flat facets with his fingertips and circling the seamless connection point between Gem and skin.

Once he finishes his answers, he hunkers down to review them. He's found that despite his best efforts, being fully honest about his feelings and trauma still likens itself to a cat whose fur is being petted the wrong direction. Sometimes he doesn't even catch himself until hours after a deflection or minimization. It’s best to give the worksheet a reread to make sure he's being as open as he wants to be.

His hand encircles around the Diamond in his stomach and gently tugs at it, the surrounding skin following the motion.

Okay, his answers look fine. He would worry over it more, but it's late, and he needs to go to bed. Maintaining a schedule is important, and after all, his therapist had repeatedly affirmed that Steven's responses wouldn't be judged. If Steven decides he ever wants to revise or amend something he says, he has full power to. Therapy isn't the high stakes of finding out exactly how to phrase something so that someone likes him. It isn't the adrenaline-fueled dance of discovering the right combination of words needed to convince a Gem not to kill him.

So, Steven declares the worksheet done. And honestly, that wasn't so bad, was it?

And then, buried in the base of his navel, Steven suddenly experiences a sickening pull, a release, and then emptiness.

It must be how sockets feel when a plug is tugged out of them.

All at once, he becomes aware of exactly what he had been messing with for the past twenty minutes or so. It's like breaking a trance - a similar feeling to the one where he finally notices that he’s been tearing his face up. He looks down at his errant hand. The fingers aren't holding a scab or even caked with blood, though he would rather that be the case. Instead, they're clutching his Gem. The rosy pink facets glimmer innocently in the light of his desk lamp.

"Oh no. Oh, no, no, no…" How could he have done this? This is so much worse than a few minor wounds on his arms and face. This is - this is _bad_. He blinks against an onslaught of long black nails, blinding white eyes, losing on Homeworld. The Gems are home; they’ve been informing him of their whereabouts at all times and trying to give him company more often, since he told them what it was like to be alone so much as a kid. His bedroom door is shut, and they’re starting to respect his privacy, but - could they walk in on this? Does he want them to?

_They don't know about this._

Oh, he’s crying.

The first time this happened, the actual removal of his Gem wasn't painful, just extremely discomforting. The painful part was dropping powerless to the ground and slowly fading away without its energy. Steven dully wishes that it were painful, because maybe then his brain would've sent him signals to _stop fucking with the thing that gives him life_ before he went and absent-mindedly yanked it out of himself.

Steven begins to sweat from the exertion of being fully half-human. His Gem levitates upward to get air space. First, the tall outline of Pink, and then the smaller one of Rose, and then, finally and rightfully, the Steven-shaped one of Steven.

His pink twin is taller now, hair a little more curly and frayed, and he’s clothed with pink copies of a t-shirt and sweatpants. He matches Steven in every way. Slowly, he descends to the ground, bare feet making contact with the hardwood floor. _Pink Steven._

“Okay. Um.” Steven holds up an arm that feels heavier than usual. “Sorry to bring you out like this. It - it was an accident!”

“An accident,” Pink Steven repeats. The nickname feels gross and wrong in Steven’s thoughts.

“Yeah! Uh, sorry, what should I call you?”

“I’m Steven,” his twin says in his voice.

Despite himself, Steven laughs. “So am I. But maybe we should have different names?”

“Why.”

“I just - Two Stevens gets confusing. Maybe I’ll want to talk about you with someone else.”

“Would talking about me be important to you?”

“It… might be?” Maybe to his therapist? He’s definitely going to mention this to Connie, he already knows he will. “And I hate that I keep thinking of you as ‘Pink’.”

His twin glows brighter. “She’s _gone_.” His words ring with bass and volume. The mug on Steven’s desk cracks.

“I know, I know! Please don’t break anything.”

The doppelganger blinks, fading to a paler blush. “Right. Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Or hurt yourself. ...myself.” Steven sighs. He was supposed to be asleep ten minutes ago. “You can tell me your name later? Right now I’m feeling - _really_ tired. I might be dying?”

That sparks something inside his twin, who immediately speeds to his side and wraps his arms around him. Instantly, Steven’s energy begins to replenish, his limbs becoming lighter and color beginning to return to his skin. “Oh, wow, thanks...”

His Gem half doesn’t respond to that, though his normally impassive face is broken by a wide smile. He lifts Steven up out of the desk chair.

“Whoa!” Steven laughs, giddy.

As a burning whiteness envelopes them both, drawing them together, Steven hears his own voice. “Connie’s already Strawberry. Perhaps you can call me Cherry?”

Suddenly, all-Steven stumbles out onto his bedroom floor. He takes a deep breath. He lifts his shirt to check his stomach - everything as normal. His Gem was just talking to him, but now it’s relatively silent, humming along in his bellybutton. “Cherry?” he tries, not expecting anything back. It surprises him to sense a warmth in his mind, a wordless returning call.

Huh. Well, he’s not going to sleep just yet.

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> hey Connie [star emoji]
> 
> ik it’s late but something really weird happened just now??

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> I can’t promise I’ll be able to respond but text me about it and I’ll read it at some point!

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> okay so I just saw my Gem half again

Steven bites his lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He’s not sure how far to explain - oh, Connie’s typing.

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> ??? LIKE IN WHITE’S HEAD?
> 
> HOW DID THAT HAPPEN AGAIN
> 
> Are you hurt?
> 
> Do you need anything?

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> I’m ok!!!! We’re back together now as one Steven. It was an accident…
> 
> I just was kinda messing with my gem and didn’t realize it until it had ended up outside my body
> 
> hahaha…

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> I am buying you so many fidget toys
> 
> Steven are you okay? That’s your “I’m not okay” laugh

Fidget toys? Steven glosses over that. He can ask her about it later.

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> it was really stressful. I’m kinda crying? It’s okay, I just need to breathe for a minute
> 
> he was nice tho

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> Of course your gem is nice, he’s you!

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> [crying laughing emoji] makes sense!
> 
> but I told him how I don’t like thinking of him as ‘Pink’ me
> 
> and right before we

Steven pauses, about to type ‘re-fused.’ Are they a fusion?

> and right before we came back together he suggested a name for himself.
> 
> Cherry
> 
> because, in his words, ‘connie’s already strawberry’

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> omg
> 
> Cherry’s a lovely name!
> 
> I hope he knows that

Silently, Steven reaches out again. _Cherry? Connie likes your name._ There’s another warm response, but it’s fainter now. Maybe he’s tired from reforming for the first time in a few years.

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> I just got good vibes from my brain when I tried to ask him so I think he appreciates what you said!

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> you, talking to your literal other half: Steven “good vibes from my brain” Universe

**to: [strawberry emoji]**

**from: Steven**

> hey, those vibes are hard to come by atm
> 
> but getting easier

**to: Steven**

**from: [strawberry emoji]**

> [five heart emojis]

The hearts make him smile. A little calmer now, he wipes his face, noticing that the tears have stopped. Time for bed, for real this time. He texts Connie goodnight, plugs in his phone to charge, crawls under his covers, and drifts to sleep.

* * *

In the middle of the night, the TV in his room bursts into static, with faint hints of white blurs. Steven jolts awake. He doesn’t go back to sleep.

* * *

“And then I texted you, and… yeah.” Steven shrugs his shoulders.

“Wow. I have so many questions.” Connie takes a sip of her tea and checks the time on her phone, before setting her thermos and her phone down on the picnic blanket. “I mean, you said it didn’t hurt?”

“No, and it didn’t really ‘hurt’ the first time either. It just feels super weird. Like if you could pull off your ear or something without being in pain.”

Connie makes an uncomfortable face.

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird. But, um… I dunno. It brought up all this stuff -” of White’s fingers digging into skin, of the feeling of crashing into cold marble - “that the Gems don’t actually know about. And I think maybe I should tell them about it? Gah, I don’t know. I know it’s up to me. But I kind of wish they had more context for my problems with White.” His hands tighten against his knees at the sudden urge to pick at scabs that he knows are on his face.

For a moment, Connie looks away. “I wanted my parents to know about some of my ‘stuff’ too. I told my mom about White’s head.”

“Oh.” He rubs his neck. “When did that happen?”

“Last year. It just kind of fell out of me after a few therapy appointments about it. I told her no more lies between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have trouble with ‘lies of omission’ sometimes.” It’s said so matter-of-fact, which surprises Steven. He’s used to feeling shame about those types of setbacks before working on them. It sounds like she’s just… working on them.

“Oh man, I know exactly what you mean.”

Connie pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and Steven thinks he’s in love with her. She hesitates before she asks, “Is it alright that I talked about that with my mom?” It’s not exactly apologetic, but it’s understanding. She won’t take back what she already did, but she knows she can talk with Steven if either one of them has a problem with the other.

And why would Steven have a problem with that? It’s her pain too! He takes one of her hands. “Of _course_ it’s alright. If you need to talk to your family about some of the crazy things that we went through, do it! You went through similar stuff, and - and you were the one to carry me to my Gem back in White’s head.” He swallows. “I think keeping something like that to yourself would bother anybody. It sure bothers me.”

Her thumb rubs atop Steven’s knuckles. “Thanks.” Softly, she says, “If it bothers you, I think you should tell them.”

Steven sits back, but keeps their hands linked. “Yeah. I think you’re right. I think it’s what my therapist would say, too.” He’s been running a lot of things by his therapist in the past month since his breakdown. Maybe this is one decision he can start to walk himself through without his therapist’s guidance. Start to make healthy decisions without consultation.

“Oh! Before I gotta go back to studying…” Connie gently unlinks their hands in order to open up her purse. “I ordered these off the Internet for you. I wasn’t sure what exactly would work for you, so I got a few.” She pulls out a squishy ball, a rainbow spinning ring, some sort of coiled tangle of plastic, and a lavender cube adorned with random buttons and sliders.

“Hey, are these the fidget toys you were talking about?” He still doesn’t know what they are, but she got them for him, and the thought gives him warm fuzzies. “What are they?”

“Okay.” Connie holds up the cube and hands it to Steven, who tosses it about in his hands, pressing the clicking buttons and rolling the small metal ball embedded in one side. “Fidget toys are like little distractions for your hands. I mean, they’re useful for a lot of things - ADHD, autism, anxiety - but I also found out that they can be useful for dermatillomania.”

“Dermatillomania?” Fuck, is something _else_ wrong with his brain?!

“Compulsive skin picking! I did some Googling after our last hangout. I might’ve gone a little overboard, actually.” She blushes.

“Connie, it’s...” He looks at the colorful fidget toys spread out on their picnic blanket. “You did all this research and stuff for me.” For something that he wasn’t really even willing to look at as a problem. But she noticed it and found solutions and decided to help him try them. Heat pools behind his eyes.

“I want to help.” Connie gathers the other toys and presses them into his hands. “It’s okay if they suck or something. It was just an idea. But let me know how they work out! They might make it easier to avoid picking at skin or - at something way more serious.”

Steven laughs through his teariness. “I don’t want to pull my Gem out again. I was _not_ ready for that. I don’t think Cherry was, either. He got kinda quiet afterwards.”

She gets cozy next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “Is he usually quiet?”

Steven flushes at the contact. He elects to busy his hands with the tangle toy, twisting and turning it aimlessly. “Honestly, I didn’t even know I could be aware of him until the other night. I guess I still have stuff to learn about what it means to be a Steven.”

Connie quietly laughs, and picks up the fidget cube to mess with. “You know, these fidget toys are pretty good for anxiety too. Or those little metal brain teaser puzzles! I have a bunch of them to mess with when I get nervous, or can’t stop remembering something. They’re good distractions.”

Steven hums happily. “I’m so glad you found something that works for you,” he smiles. “Let me know if I can do anything to help. You know you can text me whenever, right?”

“I don’t wanna interrupt you or something.”

“No, seriously, you can literally text me whenever. I have a lot more free time than you and you always listen to me when I need to talk. It’s the least I can do, really.” He continues to twist about the tangle toy, managing not to pick at his skin despite the urge. They’re already proving to be pretty useful.

Connie lets herself smile. “Thanks, Steven. I’ll try to remember to take you up on that.”

* * *

“Thanks for being here when I asked, guys.” Steven rubs his neck and refuses to make eye contact with the Gems. The couch beneath him is suddenly way too soft, as if it’s eaten him and he’s going to be glued to his seat forever, unable to leave this moment.

“Of course, Steven,” Pearl assures. “We’re here for you.” Next to her on the couch, Garnet nods. Amethyst just gives him an encouraging smile.

“I appreciate it.” He picks at a scab on his arm. “Um. This is something that’s kind of… serious. It’s old though - something that happened while we were in White’s head.”

“Hmm. Unfortunately we don’t remember much about the experience…” Pearl muses with a hand on her chin, and then her hands flutter back into her lap. “Sorry, continue.”

“Yeah. It was when you were all -” The words get stuck in his throat. He waves a hand awkwardly.

“When we were in White’s control,” Garnet finishes.

He just nods. “You didn’t see any of this, but…” His nails dig into the scab and peel it off completely. Ugh. He hadn’t thought to bring one of his fidget toys downstairs for this. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you.” The apology tumbles out of him, and he has to fight not to berate himself for it. The Gems aren’t entitled to everything that happened to him. In this specific case, though, he still wishes he had told them this sooner, so that they knew that Rose would never come back no matter what. Not that they necessarily wish she would, especially not at the expense of Steven. But maybe he needs them to know this final proof - even after all this time and all their growth - that Steven is _himself_ , fully and completely. He needs to show them for his own benefit.

Amethyst briefly touches his arm. “Hey, it’s okay, just take your time, man.”

“But it’s something I think you all would’ve liked to know...” He shakes his head. “Anyway. While you were all out, White - she picked me up.” A chill runs down his spine at the reminder of huge, cold fingers clutching him. “She thought I was Pink, and she wanted Pink to come out.”

The Gems go pale. They’re probably inferring what happens next.

Steven swallows against a sudden lump in his throat, his words skimming over the actual event. “So anyway, I learned that my Gem can be removed!” He weakly laughs. “It reformed as me. Just a Gem me. White had dropped me on the floor, so Connie had to carry me to my Gem, and me and him - I guess we fused? Back into me. Whole Steven.” One of his hands comes to rest over the shape of his Gem in his t-shirt. “But it was fu - it was _terrifying_. I think I was dying without him.”

His family is silent. Pearl has tears in her eyes, but makes no sound. Amethyst looks confused about whether she should hug him or let him talk.

“I - how -” Unformed words tumble around in Pearl’s mouth. Finally, with a surprisingly steady voice, she asks, “What do you need from us, Steven?” Beside her, Garnet’s fists are clenched and Amethyst keeps opening and shutting her mouth without saying anything, but they’re both waiting for him. Waiting to know what he needs.

Steven wants to smile at that. Instead, he ends up whispering, voice breaking, “I just want a hug.”

“Oh, c’mere, dude,” Amethyst bursts out like she was waiting for it, and then she’s right next to him, her arms wrapped around him three times over. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what that must’ve been like.” She holds him tight, burying her head into his shoulder.

Garnet strongly embraces him on top of Amethyst’s attempt, encasing him in a safe, secure cocoon. Her voice comes from above. “Thank you for telling us, Steven.”

Finally, Steven feels rather than sees Pearl’s spindly arms reach around them all. Her pointed chin rests atop his mop of curly hair. He hears it in her chest when she says, “I’m sorry you held onto something like that for so long.”

Tears obscure his eyesight, but he can’t see much anyways beyond his family’s arms. So he cries into them. “T-thank you. _Thank you._ ”

* * *

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Garnet tells him. “No matter our curiosity or wish to understand, your feelings about this are much more important. None of us want you to show us something that you would rather keep private.”

“Thanks, Garnet.” Steven smiles up at her. “But I do want you to meet Cherry. I mean, he already knows you. But you just learned about him. And honestly, I don’t know much about him either.”

Pearl gives the thorny bushes of Rose’s garden one last look and turns to him. “And you’re sure this is safe?”

“I’m pretty sure that as long as we’re in contact with each other, neither of us will have problems. Besides, that’s what the fountain’s here for, just in case.”

“I trust you,” Garnet responds. “You _are_ the Steven expert, after all.”

Steven giggles harder than he thought he would. “Yeah, I guess I am."

Amethyst jumps up to sit beside him on the lip of the fountain. “Whenever you’re ready, Ste-man. I’m ready to meet another Steven,” she says, shapeshifting into a carbon copy of him in a shimmer of light.

“Pfft, come on, I don’t wanna freak him out. It took me a sec to get him to agree to this in the first place.” And to get _himself_ to agree to this. He suggested it and all, but pulling out his Gem is kind of an… emotionally-charged activity.

She shrugs and reverts back to her normal self. “Sure thing, dude.”

“You can talk to him?” Pearl asks curiously.

“Kind of? I just get vibes from him more than anything.”

Garnet nods in understanding, while Amethyst and Pearl look confused.

Steven claps his hands together. “Okay. Let’s go.” He doesn’t want to watch himself do this. Instead, he looks away as he exposes his Gem and feels around until his fingers press along the seam. It might not be possible to do a usual ‘de-fuse’ in his situation, but he can’t really be sure. “This might look scary, but it’ll be okay. Amethyst, could you just support my back? I don’t want to fall into the water.”

Wordlessly, Amethyst slides closer and wraps an arm against him to keep him steady.

The removal is slow and intensely uncomfortable. He can feel his Gem sliding out, and he’s completely aware of it, as opposed to the trance he had been in last time. It’s a bit similar to the feeling of puking, but out of his skin? Ew, nevermind, don’t think about that.

Terror is written all over Pearl, expressed in wide eyes and tense, sharp limbs. But, whereas a few years ago she would have charged in, she doesn’t interrupt. Garnet is blank, and Amethyst just keeps holding onto him with an intense stare.

All sensation in Steven’s Gem stops. _At last._ Immediately, he leans heavier against Amethyst’s arm as weakness washes over him. The diamond cradled in his hand warms him with residual body heat, but not for long; it soon swoops into the air. Speechless, the Gems watch on as it begins to take its very first form, then shrink down to a more familiar form, and finally to Steven’s height.

Cherry opens his eyes, diamond pupils adjusting in the bold sunlight of Rose’s garden. Had his eyes been like that the very first time they met? No, right? He sinks to the ground and, as if running on a program, immediately walks to Steven’s side. A hand identical to Steven’s own grasps Steven’s arm. The beginning of fatal weakness already starts to melt away. As Amethyst leaves Steven’s side to give him space, he marvels at Cherry. “You changed your clothes!”

They aren’t matching this time. Cherry’s form includes the trademark varsity jacket and a pair of converses that are gathering dust in the back of Steven’s closet. Meanwhile, Steven forwent the jacket due to the heat and keeps his eternal flip-flops on.

“Yes,” Cherry responds, his sharp-cut eyes following the rose petals fluttering in the air. “Knew I would be coming out this time.”

“Ha, yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Steven looks over to the Gems, all wide eyes and respectful distance. “So, this is Cherry. Cherry, you already know them, but this is Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl.”

“Uh, sup,” Amethyst greets.

"H-Hello," Pearl stutters.

Garnet says nothing. For a moment Steven is nervous - what does Garnet think? Then, she takes a few steps, stopping in front of Cherry. Her face is impassive as always, but then a soft smile tips her indifference into joy. She addresses him. "It is an honor to meet you, Cherry."

Cherry blinks. "An honor."

"Yes," Garnet assures.

"But I'm Steven."

"Yes, you are. You are part of what makes Steven _Steven_. Without you, Steven would be very different. I’m happy to meet such an important component of him.”

“Without me, Steven would be - human.”

“He _is_ human,” Pearl adds, coming closer with Amethyst in tow. “But he is also Gem. He can be both… But not without _you_.” She gestures to the two of them. “Either of you.”

Amethyst gives Cherry a lopsided grin. “You’re important too, dude.” She jumps up onto the slick stone of the fountain’s edge in order to ruffle both Stevens’ curls, startling a laugh out of one and a slight shift in expression out of the other. Steven could swear that Cherry's eyes grow warmer. “We love all parts of Steven!”

“Aw, guys…” Steven blushes. He feels Cherry's hand tighten around his.

For a second, a smile flickers on Cherry's flat face. "Thank you."

“So, I hear that you’re quite strong,” Pearl tells him.

Steven blinks. “Huh?”

“That crater in White’s head.” Garnet readjusts her glasses, peering down at Cherry. “It was you.”

Cherry just nods.

“Yo, dude, I thought that White had, like, fallen over or something. You made that huge hole in the ground? That’s so cool!” Amethyst gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

“I was loud.”

She laughs wildly. “Yeah, I guess you fuckin’ were!”

“Amethyst!” Pearl admonishes.

This is going so much better than Steven had thought it would. He imagined emotional turmoil at the sight of the Diamond outside of him, contemplation about the possibility of drawing her out, insistence that this was actually a bad idea in the first place… but none of that happened. And as his family jokes around and talks to Steven’s Gem counterpart, a crushing weight leaves Steven. He hadn’t even known it was there, but now that it’s gone, he can breathe a little easier. His family knows about White, about Cherry, and they know about it _well_ , without breakdowns or confusion.

They know, and they love both of him.

* * *

Lion’s always been exceptionally soft. Steven doesn’t know if countless decades of immortality have let him develop an amazing fur-care routine or what, but he’s grateful for it as he happily buries his face into Lion’s plush mane.

“Don’t go to sleep! I still need help with the rest of these notecards!”

Steven buries further into the mane, one side of his face popping into the warm dry air inside of it. “But how can I not? He’s so comfy!” A pack of notecards hits the exposed side of his face and falls into the sand with a plop. He finally pulls away from Lion. “Hey, the notecards don’t deserve that.”

“Then help me study them!” In juxtaposition to her tone, Connie giggles. She caps her pen and tosses it to the side. “I seriously can’t fail this test.”

“Okay!” He responds innocently, as if he wasn’t just blowing her off to fall asleep on Lion. “I’ll help!” He dusts off the sandy notecards and removes their rubberband. He’s never been much of a reader of anything other than fiction novels, but that doesn’t stop him from sounding out the words so that Connie can give him the definition. He keeps a notecard in one hand and his fidget cube in the other so that he doesn’t feel a need to rip off the bandaid on his chin. That would just defeat the thing’s whole purpose.

After twenty or so cards, Connie calls for a break. She twists open her thermos and takes a sip from it. “Oh! How was the meeting with Cherry and the Gems?"

“You know what, I think it actually went better than I expected.”

“Yeah? So it went well?”

He sets down the notecards and feels a warm hum within him, full of love and care. “Yeah.” Slowly, he comes to smile. “I think it did.”


End file.
